THE WINDS
R. Y. DESHPANDE
I took a train for the Himalayas
And journeyed through the cities of the Past
And through the ancient monarchies of life
And reached a few points of lone joy
Stuck out like the stars of night
In buffeting beliefs.
Then the breeze changed, lifting up the high blue,
And thoughts disappeared into a purple morrow.
Propelled by the winds of vision
My Vostok of secret gleams
Speeds through the skies where newer suns burn.
The winds blow from behind
And the winds from around
Breaking the bounds set by quasar lights.
O at last have the rocket - sounds
Riddled the griefs of gravity.
I hold in my sight’s foresight
The all - white supernoon of the summer
And forge the Future’s will:
I have outgrown the terror of my own shadow.
Now the days bloom and the corn - fields sway
Even as the southern winds blow!